Phobophobia
by ekc293
Summary: Phobophobia - the fear of fear or phobias. A collection of one-shots inspired by irrational fear to be updated whenever the inspiration strikes.
1. Athazagoraphobia

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Castle. Never have, never will. I do own Mr. & Mrs. Fitic though... they were in my story _Words Words Words_.

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><p><strong>Athazagoraphobia - <strong>The fear of _forgetting_

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><p>Kate Beckett didn't fear many things. She wasn't afraid of heights, or deep open water. She wasn't afraid of spiders, or the dark, or dying. No, Kate Beckett wasn't afraid of much, but she was scared of certain things.<p>

She was afraid that something would happen to Castle while they were working a case. She feared ever having to tell Alexis and Martha that Rick wasn't coming home. She was afraid that they would hate her for failing to protect him. She was afraid that her father would start drinking again. She feared what would happen to her if she lost him. Yes, Kate was scared of all those things, but there was one thing that Kate was absolutely petrified of.

Kate Beckett was terrified by the thought of forgetting her mother.

Ever since her murder so many years ago, Kate had made it a point to remember everything about her mother. She looked through old photographs daily to memorize the way she smiled. She would read her favorite books over and over again until she knew the dog-eared pages and highlighted passages by heart. She watched home videos for hours at a time to commit the sound of her laugh to memory. She had filled up a journal entirely with conversations she could remember them having, memories of their days together, and the seemingly infinite wisdom of the wonderful woman who haunted her dreams.

And then her apartment had blown up.

Many of her old photographs had been incinerated. Some of the books had been destroyed. Old VHS tapes had been rendered unusable because they had melted during the explosion, and her journal could never be found.

And while she tried her hardest, Kate had started to forget. She could remember what her mother smelled like, but her scent had started fading from the things in Kate's apartment that used to belong to her, tinged with the scent of smoke which seemed to suffocate her mother's memory. She remembered her handwriting, but the notes in the margins in the remainder of Johanna's books and the words in her date books and old birthday cards were becoming lighter and lighter everyday.

Johanna Beckett was slowly fading away, and there was nothing Kate could do to stop it.

But Kate was determined not to let herself forget. She _couldn't_ let herself forget. If Kate forgot the way her mother's voice sounded, she couldn't just call her and talk for an hour. If Kate forgot what she looked like, she couldn't go out to lunch with her. If Kate forgot her, she was truly gone; and she couldn't let that happen.

So, in an effort to stop forgetting, she had started sharing her memories. Kate found herself telling Castle about the time when she had her tonsils out and they watched Temptation Lane together for hours. She wanted to tell him about the time they had made Christmas cookies in August and almost succeeded in burning the house down. She wanted to tell him about the time Kate had been pulled over while driving and Johanna, the lawyer, had told her to shamelessly flirt her way out of it (because "using your femininity is _never_ a crime."). She wanted to tell him about when her mother first discovered that she had bought a motorcycle and had dragged Kate and the bike to the local pastor to have them both blessed with Holy water.

Kate wanted him (and everybody else) to know what an incredible woman her mother had been. How she was just, and honest, and always willing to help anyone in need. Someone had to know about the time they had found a stray kitten outside of their apartment building and Johanna had snuck the cat into the apartment in her briefcase and nursed it back to health until they found someone who could adopt it. Someone had to know that she used to mentor underprivileged kids on Thursday nights, before she'd go home and help Kate with her homework.

She even wanted everyone to know the less-than-flattering things she remembered about her mother. Kate wanted people to know that her mother used to make an awful tuna casserole that had made her and her father physically sick on more than one occasion. She wanted them to know that Johanna's nostrils used to flare whenever she was yelling at someone. She wanted them to know that Johanna Beckett snored so loudly that occasionally Kate would wake up in the morning to find her father asleep on the couch in the living room with earplugs in.

Because maybe (just maybe), if she shared these memories with someone, she wouldn't forget. If someone else had memories of her mother, maybe they wouldn't forget. There has to be someone in the world who knew that she existed. Someone had to know that Johanna Beckett was a daughter, a wife, a lawyer, and a mother who changed people's lives. If people knew that, then it proved that Johanna Beckett was real. She wasn't just an imaginary friend that Kate had made up when she was a child to replace someone who was never there. Johanna had been a living, breathing person that loved her family and her job and now she was gone. _But_ she was real.

One of Kate's most vivid memories is something she remembers from when she was 3. Kate and Johanna had spent the day at the park and had left to go to a local ice cream shop to get something sweet because Kate wasn't feeling well. After they had eaten, Kate had realized that she had left her coveted blanket with her favorite scene from _Rapunzel_ embroidered on it and she had started to panic. Her mother picked her up and they walked back to the park to look for it, but it was useless. The blanket was nowhere to be found, and with so many people constantly moving through the park, there was no way to tell when it had been picked up or by whom. So Johanna, sensing her daughter's impending emotional breakdown, took Kate by the hand and led her to an obscure, hole-in-the-wall bookstore. Johanna had greeted the couple standing behind the counter and had introduced them to Kate as Mr. and Mrs. Fitic. Then she carried her up a flight of stairs into another room filled with books, grabbed a few children's books, and sat down with Kate in her lap and started to speak to her.

"_You see these books, Katie?"_

Kate remembers nodding her head.

"_All these books used to belong to someone."_

Kate had looked at her mother in amazement, _"ALL of them?"_

Johanna nodded, _"Mhm, every single one. But then they lost them. But Mr. and Mrs. Fitic found them, and they put them here. See Katie, lost things get found everyday."_

That was the day Kate had fallen in love with books. Johanna had been such an instrumental part of her life, and forgetting her was something Kate would never forgive herself for. Kate needed to know that all those good times would never be forgotten. She wanted people to know the person behind the name; the mind behind the face that has a permanent spot on her wall. She wanted other people to remember her. Not because she was murdered, but because she was alive.

So when Castle leaned over one day when she was doing paperwork and asked her if she could have any one wish, what would it be?, instead of blowing him off and rolling her eyes like she usually did, she seriously thought about what he had just asked. She could wish that her dad would stay sober, but if it ever came to a point where he needed an outlet, he would just find something else to deal with the pain. She could wish that he would listen to her when she tells him to stay safe, but she knew he'd hurt himself some other way (and she secretly wanted to be there if he hurt himself, so she could take care of him). She could wish for another day with her mother to renew her memories, or wish that her mother was alive again to make new memories, but then she'd eventually have to say goodbye again. Her mind drifted towards her earlier thoughts, and Castle watched her bottom lip fall away from her teeth into a beautiful smile as she looked at him.

"I wish you could've met my mother," she said. "She would've loved you."

Castle didn't think it'd be possible to stop his vision from blurring, even if he wanted to. He knew she meant what she said. He wished that he could've met the woman who was such an important part of his detective's life. Of all the things she could've wished for, the last thing he expected was for her to share her mother with him. He tried to keep his voice even when he responded.

"If she's anything like you," he said softly, but with conviction. "I know I would've loved her, too."

Rick didn't think it was possible for her smile to grow any bigger. "Have I ever told you…" she said, still smiling, "about the time my mom found out about my motorcycle?"

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><p>Alright, so I literally sat down to do my AP Stat homework and inspiration finally struck, so I did this instead (probably a poor life decision in the long run).<br>I hope this all makes sense? lol  
>Anyway, these next few weeks are going to be crazy busy, so I apologize in advance because I probably won't be updating much.<br>But I digress...  
><strong>Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think (:<strong>


	2. Calignyephobia

Hello again! So I've decided to change this story around a little bit. _Athazagoraphobia_ was initially intended to be just a one-shot. However, I've been toying around with the idea of extending it for a while now, and since my writer's block has been awful lately, I decided to just go for it. Kris assured me that the idea sounded at least sort of interesting.

Anyway, _Athazagoraphobia _is now _Phobophobia_, a collection of one-shots inspired by different phobias to be updated whenever inspiration strikes. Now, the one-shots are not necessarily _about_ the phobia (as in... Castle doesn't necessarily have Calignyephobia), but they will be about them in general.

Does that make sense? Probably not. But... this note is getting kind of long and I want you to start reading! So, without further ado... Enjoy! (:

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><p><strong>Calignyephobia<strong> - The fear of _beautiful women  
><em>

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><p>Rick Castle had always been a ladies man.<p>

From the time he had been in diapers at his mother's shows, the other actresses cooed over how adorable he was. As he grew from an infant into a toddler, his mother's acquaintances fell more and more in love with him. As school started, his adorable face and shocking blue eyes charmed his teachers and his classmates. The girls always wanted to play with him on the playground.

If you asked the man in question, Rick Castle would tell you the last time he had trouble getting a girl was when he was 13 and his voice was cracking.

After the awkward puberty years, Rick Castle stepped up his game. While never "popular," he never had to look far for dates to school dances.

No, Rick Castle was never one to have trouble with the ladies. In fact, he found himself surrounded with beautiful women for the majority of his adult life. Not that he minded. Beautiful women liked him and he liked them. Beautiful women were familiar.

That is, until he met Detective Kate Beckett.

Yes, the beautiful detective whom he had chosen to follow around had succeeded in doing something that no other woman (save his daughter and occassionally his mother) had ever been able to do before in all the years he's been stumbling around on Earth.

She terrified him.

There wasn't a single thing about Kate Beckett that didn't scare him every day he spent with her.

For starters, there was her job. Every time Kate goes to work, there is a possibility that she'll never come home. She spends her days talking to and chasing down people who harbor no inhibitions about taking the life of another human being. Certainly, they wouldn't lose sleep over killing the woman who had the ability to take away their freedom forever. Or, if they didn't kill her, at least injuring her to the point where she would know that she couldn't face them and come out of it unscathed; that she couldn't beat them...

The thought sent shivers up his spine.

Her mind, while it had been what had initially been what had drawn him to her, was another thing that he feared. She was so unlike any woman he had ever met. He feared the decisions he knew she could make. She could decide that she had had enough of him; that the benefits of having him around were outweighed by the distress he inflicted on her psyche daily. She could make the decision to kick him off her team. Or she could decide to permanently remove him from her life; cut off all contact with him; never speak to him again.

Rick was never entirely sure where he stood in Kate's mind.

Rick was also afraid of her body. She knew exactly what she did to him every time she bit her lip. She knew just what to do get rise out of him. Kate knew she was attractive and she knew how to flaunt it while still remaining classy and tasteful.

Kate's body had Rick thinking dangerous thoughts; it had him yearning for things that he may never be able to have. The strength of those thoughts and desires had him terrified.

However, perhaps what terrified him the most about Kate Beckett was her heart. He knew that behind her tough exterior, she was emotionally vulnerable. Still healing from the rift that had been created in her world after her mother was murdered, she kept her heart guarded until she was positive she could let someone in; she didn't let them in until she was sure that the person didn't have the power to hurt her the way she knew she could hurt them.

Needless to say, not many people made it past that initial barrier.

Maybe that was part of his fear.

Kate was not one to partake in meaningless relationships or even start relationships if they didn't have the potential to grow into something more. She kept her heart in control at all times, thinking that if she could just keep everyone from seeing who she really is than they wouldn't have the ability to hurt her; if she kept everyone at arms length, no one would bother to try.

That scared him.

Because if she never let anyone get close enough to let people truly see her, she would end up alone. Sure, she was stunning and could find someone to be in a relationship with, but being "together" didn't necessarily mean she was with them, and having a significant other did not mean she wouldn't be lonely.

There is more than one way to get your heart broken.

He was terrified that before she knew what was happening, she would break her own heart to the point where it could never be repaired.

And Rick had his own personal motives for wanting to keep her heart intact.

Mainly because he was hoping one day she would break down her walls enough to give it to him. He had given her his a long time ago.

Actually, maybe that is what terrified him the most about Kate Beckett.

Rick had resigned himself to the fact that he was in love with his beautiful detective. She was smart, strong, sassy, and gorgeous, and he knew that no matter what happened, a part of his heart would always remain with Kate. He had given her a piece of himself that he would never get back.

Not that he wanted it back; he trusted her more than anyone in his life and he knew that she would protect his heart with all she had.

But could she protect it if she didn't even know she had it?

Surely she knew that he respected her and and cared for her. He wouldn't bring her her coffee every morning or make sure she ate or beat up a trained assassin for her if he didn't. She had to know that. Rick knew that Kate was aware that she was desirable to him physically; she had to see his lingering stares. What Rick was unsure of was if she remembered what he told her after she was shot at Montgomery's funeral. He told her he loved her and meant it, and he could have sworn he saw her try to smile at his words. But she never did anything to make him think that she remembered what he said, and he never said anything to remind her of that horrific day, and even though Kate and Josh had long since broken up, whatever they were was still undecided. He knew what he wanted them to be, but was waiting for her to make the first move.

Kate Beckett had the power to crush him and she might not even know it.

However, Rick knew that he wasn't the only person in this equation who could end up hurting the other. He was fully aware that (even if she didn't feel the same way about him), he could hurt her as well. In fact, he already had. He knew that he had hurt her when he reopened her mother's case. He knew he had hurt her when he left with Gina for that summer in the Hampton's. And he knew that he hurt her when he called her out on all the things that were wrong in her relationships; when he told her she was hiding from life from behind her mother's case; when he told her she was afraid of being happy.

And in all honesty, he was petrified of hurting her again. He wasn't sure if he could live with himself if he did.

But he tried not to tip his hand as to how he felt. Kate didn't need to know that every time she took a step in her too-high heels, he was scared that she would trip(even though he knew she was perfectly capable of walking, even running in them). She didn't need to know that every time a murderer gave her that I-know-what-I-did-and-I-can-do-it-to-you smirk, he could swear that his heart stopped beating. Kate didn't need to know that he had nightmares of that day in the hangar; nightmares that she had fought him and he had hurt her to keep her from killing herself; nightmares where she didn't forgive him from ripping her away from her Captain because she thought she could save him. And she certainly didn't need to know that he was terrified by the thought of a future without her.

At least, she didn't need to know that _yet_.

One day, he would stop being scared of Kate. He would tell her all the things that were written in between the lines of his novels; he loves her; he needs her; he always wants to be with her. He'll prove to her that he can be everything she could ever want and need. He'll show her that he can love her the way she deserves to be loved. He'll show her, every single day for the rest of his life, how utterly and completely extraordinary she is.

But, until then, he will continue to live in fear of the beautiful Katherine Beckett.

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><p>Now, is this idea totally stupid? Should I just stop?<br>**Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think!**


	3. Eisoptrophobia

Hello again! Here's another update to _Phobophobia_.  
>This would be a one-shot set in the future where there is an established Caskett relationship... just so you aren't totally confused (:<br>This one also requires a little bit of an open mind to take seriously, haha.  
>Enjoy!<p>

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><p><strong>Eisotrophobia<strong> - The fear of _seeing oneself in a mirror_.

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><p>The first time you look at Katherine Beckett, the first thing you undoubtedly notice is that she's attractive.<p>

Whether it be her seemingly perfect hair, statuesque physique, or her nearly flawless skin, to say she is unattractive couldn't be farther from the truth.

You would assume that in order for her to look the way she does, she must spend hours getting ready to make sure not a hair is out of place.

If that was your assumption, you would be shocked to learn that Kate Beckett rarely ever uses a mirror. And if she does, it's only for short periods of time.

It's alright, Rick Castle was shocked as well.

While he knew that Kate was not vain, he knew that she liked to look presentable and put together.

The first time he had seen her get ready in his bedroom, he watched her straighten her hair so that it was pin-straight without looking in the mirror once. She then did her make-up, only glancing in the mirror once she was finished to make sure that she looked presentable.

Rick had stared at her in awe. If living with his mother and daughter had taught him one thing, it was that when it came to getting ready, women always get the mirror (his mother had told him on numerous occasions that man invented the mirror so they didn't have to deal with women asking questions about their appearance) .

She asked him what he was looking at. He asked her how she managed to get ready without looking in a mirror.

She shrugged and said it was the product of years and years of practice. He didn't believe her, but he tried to let it go.

However, he quickly found that he couldn't.

What was it that made Kate avoid looking in a mirror?

Initially, he thought it was because she was self-conscious. One time before they were about to go on a date, when he was walking out of the bathroom, he had seen her looking at one of her newer scars that a suspect with a knife had left on her arm in an altercation; the angry line that marred her smooth skin. He thought her scars were just as beautiful as the rest of her. They showed her strength. They were trophies to prove that she was a fighter.

However, he could understand why she disliked them.

She hadn't noticed him when he first came out of the bathroom, so when he spoke, she was startled out of her stupor. She self-consciously covered her arm and told him she was ready to go to dinner.

He let her pretend he didn't see until after dinner, when he kissed every single one of her scars; the scar on her arm from the knife; the scar on her thigh from the first bullet she ever took as a rookie cop; the scar on the underside of her jaw from a suspect hit her in the jaw with a ring that could classify as brass knuckles; the scar on her knee she got when she fell off her bicycle when she was seven; and of course, the scar on her abdomen from the bullet that almost took her away from him forever. Yes, he kissed every scar with a reverence and admiration that had caused Kate to uncontrollably tear up. He showed her that her scars were something she could be proud of. They were part of what made her so beautiful.

And it seemed to help. Kate seemed to be more comfortable with her scars after that night.

But she still wouldn't look in mirrors.

It wasn't until he was looking through one of her old photo albums with her in her apartment that he realized exactly why she avoided looking at her reflection.

Kate had been given the day off and instead of spending the day in the loft like they normally would do, they decided to go for a walk. However, they hadn't looked at the weather forecast that day and found themselves caught outside in the middle of a thunderstorm. Trying to hail a cab ended up not going as well as they hoped so they decided to go to Kate's apartment until the storm would clear up to warm up and stay dry. They had changed out of their jeans and put on sweatpants and brewed a pot of coffee. Once they had their mugs, they moved over to her sofa and sat down, leaning into each other for warmth and comfort. Rick and Kate decided against watching a movie when Rick spotted the photo albums.

Kate had initially put up a fight in an effort to hide her baby photos from him, but his excitement was catching. She conceded quickly and even grabbed some more albums from her bedroom for them to look at.

The two of them had sat curled up on the couch, holding albums in between the two of them so they could both see it. They were having a great time. Whenever Rick had a question about a picture, Kate would tell him the story behind it. She blushed when embarrassing bath-time pictures were revealed and ineffectively tried to keep Rick from seeing the even more embarrassing prom pictures.

Rick wasn't sure how long they had spent flipping through the pictures of Kate's life. They were both laughing about the story behind one of her preteen Halloween costumes when he turned the page.

There was only one picture on this particular page. It was a picture of Kate and her mother. Kate looked as if she was in her early 20s. Kate and her mother appeared to be sitting in a park on the ground, a blanket spread out underneath them. The angle of the photograph led him to believe that the photographer (he assumed it was Jim Beckett) had taken the picture as he was standing above them. Both mother and daughter had megawatt smiles on their faces and the sunlight was dancing across their skin. Both of them looked equally and heartbreakingly beautiful.

His breath caught in his throat.

She had her mother's eyes.

In fact, she had Johanna's nose as well. And her cheekbones. And you could definitely see the resemblance in the curves of their smiles.

Everything finally started to fit together. He had finally discovered the reason Kate Beckett was afraid to look at her own reflection.

How horrifying it must be to look at your own reflection and see a ghost staring back at you.

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><p>Alright... so I told myself my next Kate one-shot wouldn't have anything to do with her mother. And originally... it didn't. But this came out instead. It's a little weird in my opinion... but that last line... I love it. I don't say that I love my writing often, but that last line gave <em>me<em> chills.  
>As always, <strong>Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think!<strong>


	4. Logophobia

Thank you everyone for all your support with this idea! I'm ecstatic that you all seem to enjoy it (:

Anyway... this is another one that might take a little bit of imagination to believe... but I'm actually pretty happy with where it ended up going.

Anyway... I hope you enjoy the newest installment of _Phobophobia_!

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><p><strong>Logophobia<strong> - The fear of _words_.

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><p>As a writer, Richard Castle appreciated words.<p>

He understood that words can be used to create wonderful things.

When Rick was a young boy, he learned to use his words to get himself out of trouble; knowing the right thing to say, when to say it, and the exact tone in which to speak them to give his words the desired effect.

When Alexis was an infant he had spun his words to create magical tales of princesses in towers far far away and little girls in imaginary Kingdoms that did extraordinary things because they were strong and had daddys that loved them very much.

As an established and well-known mystery novelist, Rick Castle had learned how to use words to create characters that his readers could connect with and relate to. He used his words to paint scenes in the reader's mind so that they could see the story in their head as if they were a part of it. That's what seperates good stories from great stories. That's what puts books on the Bestsellers list. That's exactly what keeps them there.

Every good author understands that words have power.

Words can do wonderful things if used correctly. Words juxtaposed together in the correct way can make poetry that can make even the most hardened man cry. Words said in the right sequence can express the deepest and sincerest form of love. Words can lift you up. Words can heal. Words can save.

However, words are also capable of doing terrible things. Words said in a certain way can bring a grown man to his knees. Words twisted into hate can destroy cities. Words can break hearts. Words can break spirits. Words can kill.

That's precisely why as a man, Richard Castle feared words.

When it came to the things worth saying, he usually found himself at a loss. He quickly found out that the words that would have been perfectly at home in his novels meant very little to the people who meant the most to him in real life.

Rick Castle hid the words the needed to be said behind the words that came easily to him.

Instead of telling his mother exactly how much he loved her, he hid behind jokes about her presence in his apartment and the damage she did on his liqour cabinet. And sure, Martha was fully aware that her son loved her very much, but it frustrated him to no end that he found it difficult to say it to her face.

When it came to his daughter, he found himself constantly struggling to find the right words to say to her when she came to him with problems. He had always acted as both her mother and her father, and as she has transformed into an intelligent, young, woman, he began to realize that that wasn't enough. He struggled to think like a mother would when their daughter comes to them with boy problems; say the things a mother would about getting your heart broken and getting back up again and how to deal with teenage girl issues. But it always made him uncomfortable and awkward and he felt as though he was always letting her down.

And then, of course, there was his complete ineptitude at saying the right thing as far as Kate Beckett was concerned. When it came to spinning theory with the boys and his detective, he was never at a loss for what to say to make them roll their eyes at him. But when it came to more serious matters, the words never came easily to him. When Rick re-opened Johanna Beckett's case for the first time, the only thing he could say was that he was sorry. After seeing the complete look of hurt on her face, he knew it wasn't enough. When Kate had killed Dick Coonan in order to save his life, he had been rendered speechless. She sat there, crying in front of him, her hands covered in the blood of the only man who could have given her the answers she so desperately wanted and the only thing he could think to do was put a hand on her shoulder. When Montgomery took her off her mother's case and he had went to her apartment armed with a bouquet of flowers and a speech, she had opened the door with tear stained eyes and every word he thought he had planned on saying was forgotten, and he found himself unable to think about anything other than the fact that she had been crying. When Royce was murdered, he couldn't think of any way to comfort her. When they were in that hangar, he watched her breakdown in front of her mentor, pleading with him to think about what he was doing. He watched her stagger back to her captain's body and sob over it as she took in the gunshot wounds to the chest and he helplessly looked on because he knew that anything he said would be meaningless.

The only time he had said what he truly felt, no filters, no restrictions, was when he was desperately afraid he was going to lose her forever. She lay on the grass, bleeding out in his arms and he had told her breathlessly that he loved her, as if saying those words would breathe new life into her and she'd be overcome by a new strength to fight for herself. But her eyes had closed and she lost consciousness. As she went limp in his arms he was hit with the realization that words can't always fix what's been broken. Saying he loved her was not necessarily enough to bring her back. The right words with the right intentions can be spoken at the wrong time, but once you've said them you can't take them back. When she woke up in the hospital three days later, she told him that she didn't remember anything after she hit the ground, that his confession of love had landed on deaf ears. His had professed his love and he could not take it back but she would never know.

If there was one thing Katherine Beckett taught him, it was that words meant nothing without action. Pretty phrases such as "I love you with every fiber of my being," and "I'd do anything to keep you in my world" meant nothing if they couldn't be supported by evidence; evidence he wasn't ever sure he'd be able to give her because she was with someone else and he was a coward, hiding behind his words that meant absolutely nothing to her. He knew that the words he spoke to her were some of the truest he'd ever spoken, but she'd never believe him. For Katherine Beckett, words were never enough.

Unfortunately for Richard Castle, his words were all he had to give.

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><p>Was that even believable? I thought it was... but it's also 1:30 in the morning and I'm feeling rather sleepy...<br>As always... **Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think (:**


	5. Ochlophobia

So... I told myself I wasn't going to write tonight because I have New Student Orientation and I have to get up ridiculously early tomorrow morning, but here I am... writing this at 10:15...

I'm going to go ahead and dedicate this one to _Baterista9_, because she asked for this phobia to be next. I've had this phobia saved in a list on my computer since I first decided I wanted to go through with this idea, but I couldn't decide if I wanted to use it for Kate or Rick. I found one that I think fits even better for Rick... so this is what came out. It seems a little out of character to me... but then again, I always think it's out of character.

& I just wanted to throw out a general thank you to all of you who have added _Phobophobia_ to your favorites/alerts**. **I'm so happy you all are enjoying these as much as I am enjoying writing them! (:

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><p><strong>Ochlophobia<strong>- The fear of _crowds_.

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><p>Detective Kate Beckett would never consider her job easy. There were always difficult cases, insufferable suspects, and challenging take-downs. That would never change. Being a female detective, Kate also found herself a victim of prejudice that she noticed her male partners didn't have to deal with. There were the catcalls, the obvious leers and nasty smirks from men who would think that she needs to be put in her place, the constant need to overpower her inherent femininity with masculinity to prove that she belongs there.<p>

Because no matter what anyone would ever tell her, she knew she deserved to be where she was. She should be respected. She should command the attention of others. Because she was good at what she does.

It was a typical day in the life of Kate Beckett. She and her partner, Rick Castle had gone to their victim's apartment near Broadway to do a routine walk-through to see if anything important might have been looked over by CSU. When they arrived at their destination, nothing looked out of the ordinary. They had walked into the condo without any suspicion, until they saw papers strewn about on their victim's kitchen table. Kate's hand moved to her weapon as she and her partner started to move slowly towards the mess. She heard a floorboard creak quietly somewhere behind her. She spun around, her fingers closed around her gun in time to see a man wearing jeans and a t-shirt holding a sheet of paper make eye contact with her and flee through the open front door, slamming it behind him as he went.

Kate Beckett took off after him with Rick trailing not too far behind. She went to yank open the door only to realize he had locked it behind him. She quickly undid the locks and busted through the door, sprinting down the halls and towards the steps. Even in her three and a half inch power heels, she had managed to jump down the four flights of stairs without tripping or falling, reaching the lobby of the apartment building in record time. Forgetting about Castle, she sprinted out onto the crowded city streets. She looked both ways and quickly saw her suspect running away from the apartment building, only about a block or two ahead of her. She ran after him, never losing sight of him until she realized that they were running towards Times Square. She ran faster; she couldn't let him make it into the crowd.

It was way too easy to lose sight of people in a crowd.

However, no matter how fast she ran, she still couldn't make it in time. While people in New York generally moved out of her way when she was running after a suspect on the street, Times Square was not as forgiving. No one seemed willing to move out of her way and catch the man who so obviously had a reason for running. The crowd was too heavy and there were just too many people who couldn't be bothered by moving and somewhere along the way her suspect had stopped running and become an inconspicuous part of the crowd. She looked at the sea of people walking in every which direction, looking for the man from the apartment but only finding annoyed stares and glares from the arrogant people who refused to move for the detective.

She felt like screaming. _JUST MOVE. THE MAN WHO JUST RAN THROUGH HERE COULD BE A MURDERER. YOU'RE LETTING HIM GET AWAY._

These were the times when she really questioned why on Earth she even cared. She gave herself over completely to every case she worked, fighting hard to get the justice for her victims that they deserved after they had been so painfully and prematurely torn away from their friends and family and the life they had. And yet no one cared unless it was somehow connected to themselves. They didn't realize that everyone is connected. If there is a murderer in New York City, there was a murderer in their neighborhood. Their spouses were not safe. Their children were not safe. With every person killed, their comfort and safety is murdered, too. She was there to keep them safe, to protect their families and their lives even if it meant giving her own.

And still no one cared.

She looked around at the sea of faces and felt that ever familiar knot of uneasiness settle into the pit of her stomach. Everyone was here together but no one knew each other. Everyone walking through had a story that went untold to the people they walked near. The people talking angrily on the phone could be arguing with a co-worker over a business deal or having a fight with their significant other over canceled plans again. The person with the camera could be another tourist or a photography student from one of the colleges scattered throughout Manhattan. And you would never know.

Crowds had an uncanny ability to make you feel completely isolated.

When she was feeling so defeated, crowds always made her mind drift to dangerous places.

It would be so incredibly easy for her to become another face in the crowd. She didn't have her vest on, and her gun and badge were safely hidden in the waistband of her jeans underneath her blouse; no one had to know she was with the NYPD. No one had to know she was Detective Kate Beckett, known for solving crimes and being Richard Castle's muse. It would be so easy to just keep walking forward to the subway station a few blocks down and hop on a train and just never come back. There would be no pressure to be perfect; no soul-eating guilt when she felt that she had let down the dead she was fighting for; no responsibility for the victims who had no one else to speak for them. Sure... people would look for her at the beginning, but eventually they'd lose hope and stop searching for her. They'd mourn for the loss of Katherine Beckett initially, but they would forget her in time, they'd move on. After all, she'd just be another face in the crowd.

Crowds make it so easy to lose yourself. It scared her just how simple it seemed to be.

She had already lost herself once. She drowned herself in her mother's case, surrounded herself with her grief until the Kate she was before her mother's death was completely lost to the Kate she became. She had become completely aware of all of the horrible things about the world she lived in. She lost her innocence. Her circle of protection and strength had been shattered and she learned to depend on no one but herself. She had already hit rock bottom once and she had recreated herself into a new person to make up for all that had been tragically torn away from her. She'd done it once, she could easily do it again. But if she wasn't Detective Kate Beckett, and she wasn't the Katie Beckett she had been when she was a young adult, who could she possibly be?

Crowds just make it so easy to forget who you are.

Kate felt herself take a step forward.

"Beckett!" She heard her name being called and stopped mid-step, turning her head around see Castle jogging towards her, clearly out of breath. When he finally reached her, he put his hand on her shoulder and and hunched over to catch his breath. She almost smiled, when he spoke again. "Did he...?"

Her head turned back towards the crowd. She shook her head, "I lost him."

Castle gave her shoulder a small squeeze.

She took comfort in his gesture and turned back to look at him. "Come on, slowpoke. Let's call Ryan and Esposito, head back to the apartment, and figure out what that jerk took."

She started to walk back, Castle still hunched over. He took a deep breath, shook his head, and began walking after her.

He wasn't sure what he'd do without her.

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><p>Well there you go! I hope I lived up to your expectations Baterista!<p>

Edit* Also, a special thank you to I'm Widget for making me realize that I deleted the ending of this story by accident. My apologies.

As always, **Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think!**


	6. Opthalmophobia

Hey, y'all! This one kind of goes hand in hand with _Ochlophobia_... except not really. Not at all actually. They just have similar themes. Kind of...

Just read! (:

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><p><strong>Opthalmophobia<strong> - The fear of _being stared at._

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><p>If you were to ask Rick Castle what he does at the precinct, he would tell you he's an integral part of Detective Beckett's team. He would tell you he became a consultant for the NYPD when the aforementioned detective had tracked him down and asked for his help on a case. He would then tell you that after seeing Detective Kate Beckett in action, he was hit with an inspiration so powerful that the character of Nikki Heat transformed before his very eyes, and he continued to follow her around as a consultant to research for his next book.<p>

If you asked Kate Beckett what he does at the precinct, she would tell you that he plays on his phone, makes coffee, and doesn't stay in the car when she tells him to. But mostly, he just stares at her when he's not doing one of the previously mentioned things.

What Richard Castle called "research," most others would call "obsession." He knew so many details about Katherine Beckett that it was borderline creepy. He knew from watching her write that she preferred black ballpoint pens to blue. He knew that she didn't bother to dot her 'i's. He's been watching her for so long he knew that she bit her lip when she was thinking hard, or when she was nervous. He can see the slight smirk of victory in her eyes behind her stern facade when she knows she's caught their suspect in a lie. He saw the slight shudder that goes through her after she takes her first sip of her coffee because it's still too hot to drink but she needed the caffeine kick to get started. He saw how her fingers twitched when she was annoyed, how her foot taps when she's getting impatient, and even how she literally bites the inside of her cheek to keep her from saying something she knew she'd regret.

He could "research" Kate all day, but as soon as she turned her questioning glance on him, he became nervous. He would blame it on the fact that Kate was a master interrogator; the strength and power in her beautiful eyes had the ability to make murderers uncomfortable. If she could do that to hardened criminals, what chance did he, a mystery novelist, have at surviving her scrutiny?

It seemed a legitimate enough excuse, but he was still lying. Because it wasn't just Kate whose stare made him nervous. It was everyone.

For someone who did an awful lot of staring, the hypocrisy was not lost on him that people staring at him made him uncomfortable. He also saw the irony.

As an author who used to have the lifestyle he did, he asked for the attention. When your name is printed on the cover of those books and at the top of Bestsellers lists, you just can't do the things he did and expect to go through life unnoticed. When your picture is plastered on page six and you're a recurring bachelor on "New York's Most Eligible Bachelors List" and you have a portrait that stares back at people when they close your books, people are undoubtedly going to recognize you.

And when people start recognizing you, they start to think that they know you.

He couldn't let that happen.

Because when you put yourself out there in the spotlight it's not about who you really are: It's about your image. Rick had been assured by his publishers and his publicist that his playboy image was part of the reason his books sold so well. That gave him edge. It made him interesting. His readers ate that up.

Nobody would want to buy his books if they really knew he was a man who would much rather curl up on a couch and watch a movie with Kate, or play laser tag with his daughter, or play a couple hands of poker with his fellow writers.

That's the thing about being in the spotlight: Everyone likes you but no one really knows you. And if everyone really knew you, nobody would actually like you.

It was a lose-lose situation.

Rick Castle knew that people thought they wanted to know him. Women wanted him to charm his way into their lives, flirt with them to make them feel important.

But that wasn't him. At least, not anymore.

The real Richard Castle was the one who made smorelettes. The one who was terrified by the prospect that his only daughter was leaving for college. The real Rick Castle made promises and stuck to his word. The real Rick Castle wanted someone to settle down with; he wanted to stop being in the spotlight.

He wanted people to stop staring.

But again, that couldn't happen.

Because without Nikki Heat, he truly didn't have any excuse to be follow Kate around the precinct anymore. Being her unofficial partner meant nothing to the new captain, who was looking for any reason to kick him out of the 12th permanently. If he wasn't at the precinct, Kate could decide that she didn't want him to be a part of her life anymore.

It was a never-ending circle.

Without writing, he couldn't see Kate. With the writing came the spotlight. And the spotlight came hand in hand with the image.

Whenever he had to go out in public as Richard Castle, the author, he became the person he couldn't stand anymore but couldn't change. He felt as though he was keeping who he really was a secret from the world. The real Richard Castle was locked away in a dragon guarded tower like the princesses in the stories he used to tell Alexis when she was a little girl. He was kept under lock and key, surrounded by stone terraces which were penetrable only by those who had proved trustworthy enough to never give up his location. He could feel the stares even when he wasn't looking. He could feel them digging into his back, trying to get inside his skin. They were trying to understand him. They were trying to discover the truth about him. They were trying to creep into his tower, break through the stone fortress he had built around the true Richard Castle.

When they stared he could feel himself crumbling. They were looking for faults in his foundation; discrepancies in his actions and his eyes. His walls were going to come crashing down around him. He could feel little pieces of himself leak out.

The man who was terrified of disappointing his daughter.

The man who brought coffee every morning for his partner because it made her happy.

The man who was hopelessly in love with his muse.

Those were things the public wasn't supposed to see.

But as he felt the unending stares from the strangers who thought they knew him, he wasn't sure if it was worth the fight to try to keep the real Richard Castle locked away anymore.

That terrified him.

Because he knew that if the real Richard Castle leaked out to the press, they wouldn't lose interest. They would become engrossed in the "changed" Richard Castle. They wouldn't let it go.

He would never get out of the spotlight.

They'd never stop staring.

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><p>As always... <strong>Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think!<strong>


	7. Plutophobia

Alright... I don't think I told any of you, but my hard drive failed the other day and I lost everything I had saved on this computer, which included my list of phobias and ideas I had for them, so I'm currently in the process of rebuilding it.  
>But, this is one of my longest updates for <em>Phobophobia<em>. They words just kept coming and I tried to get them all down but I'm not sure if they flow right. And I'm not really content with this ending but I had nowhere else to take it.  
>So without further ado... <strong>Enjoy!<strong>

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><p><strong>Plutophobia<strong>- The fear of _wealth_.

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><p>When you're living off the salary of an employee of New York City, you have to either love your job, or be incredibly desperate for money.<p>

Kate Beckett was one of the lucky ones. She loved her job. Certainly, being a homicide detective was never easy. With every case her heart broke a little more at the thought of all the lives destroyed because of someone's idea that they are more important than the life of another. She saw hearts break, families fall apart, and futures become uncertain on a daily basis.

It wasn't easy, but it was worth it. Kate loved her job because she was helping people. Kate knew that every time she closed a case, no matter how gut-wrenching and heart-breaking the case had been, the friends of families of the victims could start healing. She gave them the closure they needed to move on with their lives. If she could just give some people the answers she never got when it came to the uncertainties around her mother's death, it would be worth it.

And if that meant that she had to budget her money, live in a slightly smaller apartment, and resist temptation and not buy that gorgeous, new, leather jacket hanging in the window of the shop a mere few blocks down the street from where she lived, so be it.

She was used to denying herself luxuries in order to pay the bills. She was okay with it. Because in reality those new shoes in the boutique near the precinct were only going to fall apart eventually, and she really needed to eat. That beautiful summer dress she had seen while window shopping with Lanie (that had fit her like a glove) was really quite impractical because she couldn't wear it to work, and her rent was due in a few days. And that Ben & Jerry's ice cream (no matter how delicious it may be) was really awful for her and it wouldn't last that long anyway.

No, she didn't need an insane amount of money to survive. She may be frugal, but she was in no way destitute. She got along just fine.

That is, until Richard Castle came into her world.

Here was a man who never had to want for anything. With just a flash of his credit card, he could afford basically anything he wanted. He never thought twice about buying a brand new espresso machine for the precinct, or buying her an expensive gown for an undercover op. She wondered just how much the man had spent just on her coffee alone since he began bringing it for her every morning.

If Richard Castle wanted it, Richard Castle got it.

For some reason, though, Rick wanted to spend time at the precinct. It started out as book research, which turned into him being an official consultant for the NYPD, which transformed into an unofficial partnership between the writer and the detective. And eventually, the professional relationship turned personal, and they hadn't looked back.

For the most part things stayed the same. They spent their days in the precinct, working together and solving murders. They'd get take-out or Remy's for lunch. They'd share a cab back to the loft or her apartment and they'd cook dinner or curl up on the couch and watch a movie until they'd kiss each other goodnight and go to sleep.

But then there were the occasions where Kate Beckett was thrust into the world of Rick Castle without much warning.

It was the night of the her mother's fundraiser, an official meeting of both their worlds. While she had been involved in some of the planning, she had not been prepared for the opulence. Rick had sent her to the spa in the afternoon, setting up a car service to take her there and back to her apartment. When she got home, her custom-fitted gown was hanging on the back of her closet door. On her dresser, she found a blue box from Rick, with a note saying he loved her and he wanted this day to be special for her. Inside was a silver charm bracelet. On one of the charms there was a locket which, if you opened it, held a picture of her mother on one side, and one of her on the other.

She was thankful that she hadn't put on any make-up yet.

As the night wore on, she found herself standing there next to Rick, holding a flute full of three hundred dollar champagne, listening to Rick talk about the real estate available up in the Hamptons with a man who had made a very lofty donation to her mother's scholarship fund. Feeling insanely uncomfortable, she politely interrupted their conversation and excused herself, handing Rick her glass and (after meeting Rick's gaze and reassuring him with her eyes that she would be alright) quickly moved towards the lobby of the hotel the fundraiser was being held. She found a service stairwell and slipped inside, the concrete walls providing a sense of comfort that the elegant ballroom failed to give her. Ignoring her dress, she sat down on the cold stairs.

The whole evening had been absolutely lovely. Rick had done a fabulous job planning and organizing the fundraiser. And she was not naive enough to believe that he did it for her mother. He did it for her, because it would make her happy and he wanted to be able to make her smile. He had spared no expense in making sure that this night was everything she wanted it to be. He knew how important Kate's mother was to her so Johanna Beckett became important to Richard Castle. Everyone was having a great time, and when Rick had told her how much money had been donated, she teared up.

She stared at her hands in her lap, trying to control her breathing.

Everything had been absolutely perfect, but Kate kept being overwhelmed by the thought that she didn't belong here. She wasn't supposed to be wearing thousand dollar dresses. She wasn't supposed to be sipping three hundred dollar champagne or eating lobster hors d'oeuvres, no matter how good any of it tasted.

She wasn't meant to be a part of Richard Castle's world. She was a cop: An underpaid homicide detective living in a relatively small apartment and a city issued car and he was a bestselling author who owned property in the Hamptons and the moon and owned a Ferrari and a bar just because he could. This is the man who dropped a hundred thousand dollars without a second thought, just for the chance of finding her mom's killer. That was more money than she made in a year.

No... they were just too different. Their lives were too different. They lived on two completely different planets.

But she knew that was a cop-out.

Rick had been able to become a part of her world. He had been able to become a member of the twelfth precinct family. The guys loved having him around, Lanie loved that he was there for Kate, and Kate had grown so used to having him there that the precinct simply didn't feel right on the days when he didn't come in. He managed to insinuate himself in her life because he liked it there; he wanted to be there with her. He stood out in his expensive dry-clean only suits and button up shirts, but he belonged there.

Kate, on the other hand, struggled with blending into Rick's world. Everything about Kate's life was informal. While she was well-mannered, she didn't know the etiquette that Rick had been perfecting his entire life. She didn't have his charming smiles or dashing wit. She didn't have his grace in the spotlight. She was awkward and stayed quiet, and while Rick claimed it was adorable, she was terrified of embarrassing him.

Because no matter how hard she tried, she saw the brief moment of horror when Rick introduced her as a homicide detective. The look of contempt when Rick spoke of her job as if it were something honorable and good. The brief hesitation when they were trying to think of something to say that wouldn't offend her.

She wasn't even sure they were aware that they were doing it.

But they did. And she knew that it was because that they were subconsciously aware of the thoughts that had been plaguing her since she and Rick started officially dating.

_You don't deserve him._

_You're not good enough._

_What could you possibly bring to this relationship?_

_You'll never belong here._

_You'll never last._

She shuddered.

The entire situation made her feel so incredibly pathetic and stupid. She knew that Rick was in it for the long haul. She knew that Rick knew that Kate loved him. He knew that Kate didn't want his money, or his real estate, or his car or any of those other unimportant material things. She just wanted his heart, and he was more than willing to give it to her.

He would give anything just to make her happy.

With a sigh, she lifted herself off the stair she was sitting on, wiping off her dress as she did so. A woman covered in diamond jewelry stared at her as she walked through the lobby and into the ballroom, instantly looking for Rick. Quickly, she caught his eye, and he immediately excused himself from his conversation and quickly started walking over to her. As soon as he reached her he pulled her into a hug. She inhaled the scent of his expensive cologne and settled into his embrace.

She opened her eyes and could see the stares of the people who thought they were better than her; the people who thought that their wealth somehow made them more worthy of

Rick's attention. She could practically hear their thoughts.

_What does she think she's doing?_

_She walked out of her own fundraiser? How crude..._

_Who does she think she is?_

But when Rick pulled back and gazed into her eyes, his thoughts were all she could hear.

_Are you okay? I love you. And I just want you to be alright. I love you so much._

She gave him a small smile and settled back into his chest.

Because this relationship may not be easy, and sacrifices would have to be made, but it was worth the fight.

It would _always_ be worth it.

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><p>There you go!<br>**Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think!**


	8. Chronophobia

Hey, hi, hello there. Here's another installment of _Phobophobia_ (:

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><p><strong>Chronophobia<strong> - The fear of_ time_.

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><p>Richard Castle always felt as though he was a man fighting the clock.<p>

When he was a teenager rushing home to make curfew, the second hand was his worst enemy.

In the blink of an eye, his high school years full of parties and girls and little responsibility were over. But he wouldn't go down without a fight. He transformed from the high school newspaper columnist to the best selling author, making money that he had only dreamed about while his high school friends were struggling to find jobs and start a life.

He may have always been fighting the clock, but he was always proving that he was force to be reckoned with. He was making the most of the time he had.

It wasn't until Alexis was born however, that Rick felt that the clock was finally winning.

From the first moment he held his baby girl in his arms, he knew time was moving too quickly. She was growing right before his eyes every day. In no time at all, she was crawling. And then she was walking and talking and reading and riding her bike with no training wheels. Before he knew it, she was off to preschool, then kindergarten, and then to elementary school where she stayed all day.

She started taking her own baths and choosing her own clothes. She started reading herself to sleep every night. Eventually, Alexis stopped wanting to constantly hold Rick's hand.

As he continued to grow older he realized that his baby girl was growing with him. He blinked again and Alexis was in middle school and in a short three years, his reason for living had entered the big, bad, world of private high school, full of catty girls and teenage boys and things he couldn't protect her from anymore. She was growing up and in the midst of all his deadlines for his books, his baby started getting her own deadlines: When to take the SATs by, when to start the college search, when to start applying and when to make that life altering decision and make the first deposit to the school of her choosing.

Rick was afraid to blink again. The next time he did, she would be gone.

He wasn't sure what he would do without her.

He assumed that he would try to bury himself in his books and talk to her on multiple ocassions throughout the week and send email after email and text after text. He planned on spending more time at the precinct and even more time with his beautiful detective.

But that didn't seem like it was going to happen at the very moment.

Because once again time was working against him and Kate Beckett was lying in a hospital bed for the fourth day in a row. She was shot, and lost so much blood that she went into shock. She was taken into surgery immediately upon arrival at the hospital and the doctors assured them the surgery was a success and she should wake up in a few hours in a considerable amount of pain. After she woke up and they assessed her pain level, the doctors would give her the appropriate amount of pain medication.

But she hadn't woken up yet.

After the first day, the doctors began to become concerned. After the second, they called her family and friends together to tell them that they were going to run some tests on her. The third day passed and the test results came back saying that everything was normal and she should've woken up by now. On the fourth day the doctors told everyone that there is a possibility that she may never wake up.

Since the first day, Rick had never left his spot beside her bed. He just sat there and talked to her and told her how much he loved her, how much he missed her, and how desperate everyone was for her to wake up. He begged her to fight whatever was holding her down, to conquer whatever it was that was holding her back because he needed to see her eyes again. He assured her that he was going to do everything he could to help her when she woke up again; he was going to be everything she needed him to be.

He'd pray, asking whatever deity may be in the sky to help her come back because the woman in front of him meant so many things to so many people and after everything that she had already been through, it just wasn't fair that this happened to her.

And then he'd look helplessly at the clock, because with every minute that passed, the chance that she wouldn't wake up became greater and that simply wasn't an option. He'd glare at it, willing time to stop moving so she could have more time to fight whatever it was that was keeping her away from him and her family.

But the second hand never slowed down. The clock mocked him, moving time along at the same constant pace, reminding him of how completely and utterly powerless he was while Kate still lay there never moving but still breathing. Her chest rose and fell eleven times per minute, as if she were sleeping. And he counted constanty to make sure nothing was changing: any more and she may be waking up, any less and...

He didn't want to think about that.

But regardless of whether or not he wanted to think about, time kept moving. He was still getting older, and his daughter was preparing to go to college and Kate was still laying in that hospital bed even after the doctors assured him she was going to be fine.

And there was not a damn thing he could do to stop it.

The minute hand on the clock clicked, signifying another minute had passed. Rick put his face in one of his hands, the other clutching onto Kate's hand as it had for the past four days. He sighed, thinking that time was simultaneously moving too slowly and too quickly.

He had had the same thought in the moments before she was shot at Montgomery's funeral and he had the same exact feelings this time she got shot. He had seen it coming and everything seemed to move in slow motion, but as soon as he started moving towards her, everything sped up and before he knew it she was crumpled on the ground beside him and he was still moving towards her in slow motion while she was bleeding out on the ground around him, clutching the right side of her chest in sheer agony, clenching her teeth to keep herself from screaming. And the blood that was pouring out of her was going at double the normal speed and the bus was taking twice as long to get to her than it normally did.

Here, in the hospital, time passed slowly yet it was moving too quickly as well. Every minute she was still unconscious felt like an hour and yet that same minute also felt like a millisecond because the time frame for hope of her recovery was growing smaller and smaller.

There was always too much time and simultaneously not enough. The moments you wish would last forever are gone in the blink of an eye and the moments that you just want to end would drag on for eternity. Happy times were gone in a heartbeat and times of misery and pain were never-ending.

He was slowly starting to learn that while he may have been victorious against time in previous battles, time _always_ won the war.

Time will never bend to the whim of the individual.

No one would ever be able to truly beat the clock.

Time has not, does not, and will not ever slow down, speed up, or stop for anyone.

He shuddered as his shoulders slumped forward in defeat. He never felt so insignificant. And as the second hand continued to move forward, despite everything, he started to lose hope.

The minute hand once again slide forward without his consent. He gave Kate's hand a gentle squeeze, a gesture he had started to reassure himself that she was still here and dropped his head back down. In a split second though, he quickly jerked his eyes back up to stare at Kate.

She squeezed back.

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><p>Wow... I really don't like this. I just feel like it doesn't flow and it's awkward and it was so hard to explain time and make it sound logical (which I don't think I did) and make it sound interesting at the same time... But I wanted to give you all something so I'll let you judge it.<p>

Anyway... in other news, **91 **lovely people now have me on their author alerts. And **62** have me on their favorite author lists. Wow... just... wow. Thank you so much. I feel so honored that you all seem to like my writing so much. I don't even think I can adequately put into words exactly how much it means to me.

But I digress... **Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think!**


	9. Novercaphobia

Heaveno (did anyone else hear about that?)! Here's another installment of _Phobophobia_! I'm warning you now... this is slightly different from my other phobias, because it's written from a different character's perspective. I was going to try to keep these entirely Castle/Beckett... but I saw this phobia as I was rebuilding my master list and I couldn't get the idea out of my head...

So, without further ado... Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Novercaphobia<strong>- The fear of _your step-mother_

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><p>Alexis Castle grew up without a mother.<p>

Actually, that's not necessarily true. Alexis always had a mother. Meredith had given birth to her and was around for a little while, until her father had realized that Meredith was being unfaithful and she moved straight across the country, granting Rick full custody of their only daughter. She would see Meredith a couple of times a year, she'd call on holidays where they weren't together, and send her cards and a present for her birthday and Christmas. Her dad sent her to spend some time with her Meredith in California because he thought she needed this time with her mother, even though she could tell how much he didn't like the idea.

So yes, Alexis Castle had always had a mother.

But she had never had a mom.

Alexis' mother was never there. She never had a mom to talk about boys or to give her motherly advice when she was in a fight with her best friend. She didn't have a mom to do her nails or braid her hair while they were watching chick flicks on the couch. She never had a mom to bake cookies with on a rainy Saturday afternoon. She never had a mom to help her get ready for prom and formal dances. She never had a mom that would be proud of her good grades at school, who would talk about her accomplishments and hang her artwork and school portraits in her office at work.

When she was little, she thought she didn't need one. When Alexis was a teenager, she became closer to her grandmother, but Martha was eccentric and from a completely different generation of thinking. And of course, Alexis had always had her dad, who loved her more than anyone else and was willing to do anything for her. He would dance with her in the living room when she was so small she had to stand on his feet. He would read her stories and even make up some of his own for her before she went to bed every night. He would make her pink cupcakes for the Valentine's Day party they were going to have at her school, helped her with her homework, and even put up with watching those sappy romance movies and listening to all the bubbly pop music she would blare in her room.

What more could she possibly want?

She didn't think she had the right to want for anything else. After all, there were so many other people who were so much less fortunate than she was; she was the lucky one to have such a great dad.

But everything changed once Detective Kate Beckett entered the picture.

Alexis had liked the woman from the first moment she saw her. The detective had walked up to her father with a badge and an air of authority that completely knocked her dad off balance. She had forced him to leave his own book party to go into questioning, and she knew that not even her father's charming ways would get him out of it this time.

She hoped that maybe the encounter would knock his author persona's ego down a notch. That maybe the detective would get him to slow down as he was getting older.

She was wrong, but she found that she wasn't entirely disappointed.

Because soon after that night her dad started following the detective around under the pretense of book research, and while she initially hadn't been too thrilled about the dangers and unknowns about what could happen, she saw how much it was benefiting him. He started writing again and how much happier he seemed to be. She heard the excitement in his voice when he spoke about something funny that had happened in the precinct or something cool that had happened with the case they were working. He was spending more time at the precinct which meant he was also spending more time with Detective Beckett. He loved what he was doing and it started to change him. He started mellowing out; preferring to spend more time at home than to go to his book parties. He stopped signing chests and was completely content with staying out of the spotlight for awhile. He started focusing more on Alexis' boy problems and (while still uncomfortable) started giving her advice that was actually useful.

Alexis was no fool. She was completely aware that these changes had almost everything to do with the beautiful detective that had managed to capture her father's heart without any effort at all.

And she was happy for him. She honestly was. But she was also terrified for him.

Alexis knew that her father was hopelessly in love with Kate. In fact, she was pretty sure that anyone with eyes could tell that he was irrevocably devoted to the detective. And while she had her suspicions that Kate felt the same way, she also knew that she was fighting it. Her father's past combined with Kate's own heart-breaking story made it hard for her to trust Rick Castle with her heart. Alexis knew that her father was giving her his all, trying to make her see that he was worth it, but Kate was just so afraid of having to rely on someone other than herself that Alexis knew the Kate was slowly breaking her father's heart.

Alexis saw how affected her father was by every single argument; how he replayed the words he should of said over and over again in his mind until he nearly drove himself crazy. He had given himself over to Kate a long time ago and he didn't understand how Kate couldn't tell. But he and Alexis were both completely aware of one certainty.

Katherine Beckett had the ability to destroy him.

Alexis was afraid of who her father may become if that happens.

However, despite all the pain that the detective could cause her father, Alexis still found herself wanting to spend time with her.

Alexis found herself wanting to be closer to Kate. Her mind flashed back to the time she was looking into a modeling job, and she had immediately gone to Kate to ask her opinion. And Kate had been completely honest and willing to help.

When Kate's apartment had blown up and she had stayed at the loft, Alexis managed to convince her to cook with her, and they had spent hours in the kitchen talking and cooking and telling stories.

And then there was the time that Alexis (without her father's knowledge) had called Kate and asked if they could go out to lunch because she really needed her advice about Ashley. She told her that she didn't think she could talk to her dad or grandmother about it and she couldn't ask her friends and Kate had dropped whatever she was doing and left her father at the precinct under the pretense of going to have girl talk with Lanie. They had spent an hour at a diner about halfway between the precinct and Castle's loft, with Alexis unloading all her problems and Kate listening patiently and offering advice as needed while their food went almost untouched on the table between them. When the check had come, Alexis tried to pay, claiming that it was only right since she had called Kate out of her job with her own problems and Kate had done her a huge favor, but before Alexis knew what happened, Kate already had the check and was handing it back to the waiter with some cash. And then Kate looked Alexis in the eye and told her that there was nowhere else she'd rather be.

Alexis believed her.

With Kate, Alexis never felt like she was an obligation. Unlike her dad's former girlfriends (even though Kate wasn't _technically_ his girlfriend), she never felt as though she were an annoyance. She felt important. She felt safe.

She felt loved.

It was hard to believe, that in the seemingly short amount of time that she had known her, Kate had acted more like her mom than her own mother had.

And she was alright with that. Nothing Kate did was forced when it came to her. She wasn't trying to impress her father. She wasn't doing it for any reason other than the fact that Kate truly cared about Alexis. She wasn't trying to replace her mother, she was simply being the person Alexis needed her to be because making sure Alexis was happy and safe was important to Kate.

As exciting and wonderful as that feeling was, it terrified her.

Alexis was sure that she had started to understand why her father felt the way he did; It was so easy to love Katherine Beckett, but so incredibly difficult to hold on to her. Because anyone who loves Kate Beckett discovers that while she may care about you very deeply, she'll try to convince herself that she doesn't need you. And Kate thought so little about herself that she truly believed no one truly needed her as well.

And she was so wrong.

There were so many people who needed her; Kate's own father, Lanie, the boys at the precinct, and all of the families who she has helped bring answers to. And then of course there was Alexis' dad and now even Alexis herself.

And despite all the pain Kate could inevitably cause her father if he lost her, Alexis was decidedly more afraid of the pain Kate could cause her if _she_ lost her because Alexis wasn't sure if she could ever fully recover from knowing what it was like to have a mom, only to have her disappear.

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><p>So... there you have it!<br>**Love it? Hate it? Willing to see more phobias from other perspectives? Let me know what you think!**


	10. Myctophobia

Hello, sorry I haven't updated this in a while! I'm feeling incredibly uninspired lately and my writing confidence just keeps getting lower and lower and... now I'm babbling. I'll stop. Not very long, post-finale.

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><p><strong>Myctophobia<strong> - The fear of _darkness_.

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><p>When Katherine Beckett was a little girl, she refused to sleep with a night-light.<p>

Her mother and father tried on multiple occasions to slip them into the outlet in her wall when they thought she was asleep, but when they would come into her room in the morning, the light would be laying on the ground, undoubtedly pulled out of the socket in the middle of the night by their baby girl.

They had found it humorous; their little girl adamant that was strong enough to fight off any demon that may lurk in the shadows of her bedroom. She didn't need a light to defend herself from the darkness.

In the middle of the night, their Katie had no qualms about wandering around the house in the dark, looking for a glass of water or her parent's room. She was the one at slumber parties who would suggest playing hide and go seek in the dark. Kate was the first one in large groups to walk through the dark hallway of a haunted house.

Eventually they stopped trying to put the light in the wall. They finally realized what Kate had known all along.

The demons in the darkness were no match for the light that was Kate Beckett.

As she grew older though, her demons changed. They became more vicious, ready to tear her apart as soon as the light went out. The darkness in her bedroom transformed into the darkness that overcame her heart when she lost her mother and she surrounded herself with it and almost didn't come out.

She quickly learned that it was so easy to fall down the rabbit hole. She learned the hard way, however, that it was nearly impossible to get out.

When she became a detective, she had thrown herself head first into her mother's case, trying to find the person responsible for taking her away from her family. It didn't matter the consequences. She was fighting by herself for someone who fought for everyone else. Going down the rabbit hole was not a big deal. It didn't matter to anyone else.

But now there were so many more people involved and the rabbit hole is getting deeper and darker and going back there is not an option. Not anymore.

This time, she had gotten lucky. She had been shot at her Captain's funeral in front of her best friend, her partner's teenage daughter, and her very own father. She lost consciousness, bleeding out in her partner's arms and she couldn't do anything . She spent almost four months in both physical and psychological therapy for her recovery.

She had been shot before, but never before had she been so close to death.

It had been a wake-up call for sure, but the fear of dying held no candle to the fear of the darkness.

When Kate was three years old, she realized she accidentally left her favorite teddy bear in the living room. She had started tearing up, thinking that her bear was all alone in the darkness. He was obviously scared. So while her parents were asleep, she crept out of bed and made her way through the house to the living room in the middle of the night. It didn't matter that it was dark and she couldn't exactly see where she was going. This was Mr. Snuffles; he _needed _her. She would be letting him down if she didn't go get him.

Since then, Kate had never been afraid of the dark. She wasn't afraid of the monsters that crawled under her bed when she was five years old and she wasn't afraid of monsters hiding in the shadows that she fearlessly walked through for her job all those years later.

Surrounded by darkness, Kate felt brave. The darkness was a challenge.

And now it was taunting her; mocking her with its reasoning. _If you were brave enough, maybe you could take me on. If you were smart enough, maybe you could fight me. If you were strong enough, maybe you could defeat me._

She wanted to fight so badly.

Kate had never been one to back down from a challenge. She was a fighter and was willing to go down for anything if it was worth the price.

Conquering the darkness leads to a reward, and this reward was the greatest of all.

Somewhere down that rabbit hole was the key to her mother's death. Going through that darkness was the only way find it. Her mother was stuck down there in the dark. In Kate's head, Johanna was calling out to her, begging for her to find her justice. Her voice echoed in Kate's ears. It was like she was three years old again, searching for her teddy bear in her home. Her mother needed her, and she was one person Kate wasn't willing to let down.

And she wasn't afraid. She would walk into the darkness with her head held high and her sword drawn and she would fight for the answers she deserved until the death if she had to.

It wasn't the darkness that scared Kate; It was her willingness to go back into it.

The dark gave Kate a sense of comfort. In the dark, Kate didn't have to worry about how she looked or what people thought of her. She could feel strong and brave. She had lived in the dark so long that it started to feel like home.

She didn't want to live in the dark anymore.

But it just looked so inviting.

It would be so easy to just crawl back down into that whole when no one was looking. She would stay down there for as long as she needed to.

But that was precisely the problem.

She had already lost so much that she didn't think she could afford to lose anymore.

She had been shot. She almost died right in front of her father who had already lost his own wife to murder. It would've killed him to watch Kate die right in front of him. She stopped breathing in the arms of the man who had always been there for her, even when she pushed him out. Kate had no doubt that he would never recover if he saw her light go out. Watching someone die is not something you ever forget.

She also had no doubt that the man in question would never let her go into the dark alone again. He was never going to let her try to go through this alone. If she went falling down the rabbit hole again, he was going to be holding her hand through the free-fall.

Is it worth forcing her partner into the darkness even if he was willing to go?

She knew the answer was no.

Were the answers she was seeking worth more than her partner's life?

She shivered. Absolutely not.

Was the justice she seeks for her mother worth putting his daughter through the same kind of pain Kate had gone through when she lost her mother?

She would never wish that kind of pain on anyone, let alone her partner's sweet daughter.

Are you considered a coward if you walk away from something you know will kill you?

Is it possible to prove bravery outside of the shadows?

Can the light provide the same comfort that the darkness used to give her?

Is her mother's death worth more than her own life?

She wasn't sure she knew the answer to those questions anymore. The only thing she knew was that she couldn't keep doing this. She couldn't keep putting herself in these situations. Her father deserved more than that; her friends deserved more than that; _she _deserved more than that.

But the darkness kept taunting her. _You're giving up on your own mother. She deserves more than you. She would want you to fight for her. _Kate would shake her head, but the darkness was relentless._  
><em>

_She would want you to come home._

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><p>Alright... so I really hope that all made sense. It started at as one thing and then kept spinning out of control and I don't think it's good at al, but I guess I'll let you all be the judge of that...<p>

As always, **Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think!**_  
><em>


	11. Photophobia

Hello everyone! Another installment of _Phobophobia!_ I feel like it's been forever since I wrote something...  
>Review that made my day: <strong>tiff098765<strong>. I literally laughed out loud. Thank you (:

Anyway... this is kind of a companion one-shot to "Myctophobia," so... just keep that in mind (:

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><p><strong>Photophobia <strong>- The fear of _light_.

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><p>When Richard Castle was a little boy, he always had to sleep with a light on.<p>

Without at least one light on in the room, little Ricky Castle could never fall asleep. Rick's overactive imagination conjured possible images of the things that could lurk in the shadows of his bedroom at night: There was a toe-eating monkey that hid under the rocking chair in the corner of his room that would nibble on your pinky toe if you got to close; an evil elephant that hide under his bed that would use its trunk to pull you under and never let you out; and of course, you can't forget the teddy bear stealing worms that hid out under his dresser.

There were monsters everywhere. But, they only came out when the lights were off. Therefore, when a light was left on, the monsters would stay hidden. They would be too afraid to come out and nibble at his toes or drag him into the darkness. When the light was on, he was the hero of the tales he weaved in the corners of his mind. He was safe when the light was on.

When the light was on he wasn't tormented with the questions that ran through his head when the lights were off; were the monsters hungry? Were they awake? When would they attack?

In the light, he had the answers he needed to fall asleep.

In the light, he had control.

Even as he grew older and realized that the monsters under his bed were just monsters in his head, Rick Castle lived by that mantra.

In the light there was truth, and when you knew the truth, nothing in the world could hurt you.

In his relatively short life, that logic hadn't failed him…

Until he met Katherine Beckett.

The first time he met Kate Beckett, he had been struck by her beautiful eyes and the soft angles of her face. He quickly realized however, that Kate Beckett was a woman that could not only take him down physically, but she also mentally as well. He was intrigued by her immediately, but he was completely enraptured when he came to the realization that she was the physical embodiment of what he had been telling himself his entire life since he was a child.

Kate Beckett was a light in the darkness that is death and murder. She dedicated her entire life to search for the truth. The truth made her strong. With the truth on her side, Kate Beckett had complete control of any situation she was in. She proved the light is on your side.

He was inspired.

He knew he couldn't leave her alone, so he started shadowing her to see her in action.

Within the first few days of following her around, Rick learned just how dedicated Kate was to the truth. She defended every victim, no matter what scandals and skeletons were revealed about them after their death, as if they were a member of elite society. She fought for the answers the dead deserved with a tenacity that continually knocked him off his feet. She was brilliant; she was bold; she was the best.

How could he not be inspired by such an extraordinary woman?

The words came easily to him once he started following Kate Beckett around. He spun a tale of a savvy and gorgeous female detective who fought for the truth as if her life depended on it. She was strong and talented and once she knew the truth she was completely unstoppable.

It was life reflected in art.

That is, until his real life Nikki Heat gave him a back story.

And then he went in and opened the cold case of Johanna Beckett's murder, stupidly thinking that if Kate discovered the truth behind her mother's murder it would set her free.

He was wrong.

Since he had reopened her mother's case, Rick had been held at gunpoint by the man who killed her mother, beat a trained assassin who was about to kill her, and kicked out of Kate's life twice. Kate, on the other hand, had been kicked off her mother's case and killed the man who killed her mother in order to save Rick's life. She had discovered that her Captain played a part in her mother's murder, had to see him standing there waiting to die as she was being carried away Castle to save her life, and then was shot and almost killed at his funeral in front of her friends and family.

He had felt terrible when he saw her face the first time he told her he had information about her mother's case. He promised he'd quit when he saw her cry while trying to resuscitate the man who could have given her answers she so desperately wanted. He cried with her when she pleaded with her Captain in the hangar. And when she was bleeding out in his arms, he was sure his heart stopped beating when she stopped breathing.

He knew that this wasn't something Kate was willing to back down from. He tried to stop her. He tried to convince her that her mother's death wasn't worth her life. He tried to tell her that the answers weren't worth the price it would cost to get them.

But she didn't believe him.

She was blind to everything but the possibility of finding the person responsible for taking her mother away from her all those years ago.

Rick was quickly realizing that the things he told himself as a child about the light being an ally weren't necessarily true.

The truth can be a terrible, awful thing. The truth can destroy you. The light will blind you.

The closer Kate Beckett got to the light, the less control she had over the situation. As she inched closer to the truth, she was putting herself in more and more danger. Whoever was behind the hit on her mother had ordered her murder for the simple reason that she had learned too much. They wouldn't bat an eyelash at killing her to.

And Kate knew that, but it wasn't going to stop her, and Rick wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her; scream at her that she shouldn't have ever listened to her when he said that the truth was the most important thing in the world because he was wrong.

The truth wasn't worth her sanity.

The truth was not, is not, and never will be worth her life.

He'd never forgive himself if she died because of this case.

But Rick knew that the way she was going, it was an all too real possibility. She nearly died at her Captain's funeral that day, and to everyone else, it looked like she had backed off the case entirely after what had happened at the insistence of her family and friends.

But he knew better.

He knew that she still had her murder board up in the window of her apartment. He could tell when she had spent all night looking at it when he would walk into the precinct in the morning and see the bags under far off look in her eyes. She would look up at him with her sad eyes, knowing that he knew exactly what she had spent her night doing, and give him a ghost of a smile, and he would swear that his heart simultaneously raced with fear and broke with guilt every time he saw it.

If the person who had Johanna murdered didn't kill her, the case itself was going to.

And it is all his fault.

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><p>So... I actually kind of really like how that turned out. I feel like this could be legitimate... kind of. I drew heavily on the things Jim Beckett said to Kate in Sucker Punch and what Montgomery told her in Knockout.<p>

As always... **Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think! (:**


	12. Rhabdophobia

I feel like I haven't updated this in forever. Sorry everyone. I've just been feeling a little uninspired lately...

I guess I should warn you that this contains spoilers for "He's Dead, She's Dead" and "Poof! You're Dead," but if you haven't seen them by now, I would be worried about you.

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><p><strong>Rhabdophobia <strong>- The fear of _magic._

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><p>Detective Kate Beckett distinctly remembers the first magic trick her grandfather had ever shown her.<p>

She had been three years old at the time. Her mom and dad had gone away for a long weekend getaway for some "much needed adult time." Little Katie Beckett hadn't questioned it. After all, when her parents went away on vacation she always got to spend time with her grandparents, who she loved very much.

It had been raining most of the weekend and her toddler-self had just been itching to get outside after being cooped up inside for so long. Her grandparents lived near a huge park. It was one of the reasons she was always so happy to go to her grandparent's house.

So as soon as the rain cleared and there was a steady stream of sunlight for a good amount of time, her grandfather put her rain boots on her and put on his own jacket, took her hand, and led her into the park for some much needed outdoor time before her grandmother finished dinner (and Katie certainly didn't want to miss that because she was making macaroni and cheese; her favorite).

She had been outside playing on the playground for about ten minutes when Katie unthinkingly slid down the slide. She saw the puddle at the bottom on the way down and slid right into it, unable to stop herself. There were some other kids on the playground as well and she had been so embarrassed. A little boy playing around the monkey bars had pointed at her and laughed, and she had run over to her grandfather who had been talking with one of his neighbors with tears in her eyes. He immediately focused all of his attention on her. He knelt down and tried to get her to explain what had happened, but she just kept biting her lip and shaking her head. It hurt him to see his only granddaughter so upset, so he did the only thing he could think of to make her smile. He whispered her name to get her attention, reached his hand up his sleeve, and pulled out a bouquet of fake flowers.

From that day on, she had been enchanted by magic. She had always been a very logical child (she knew that Santa wasn't real because they didn't have a chimney), but what he had shown her defied everything her mind thought it understood. She was fascinated. Every time she spent time with her grandfather, he always made sure he had a new trick to show her. After seeing how amazed she was by his tricks, he began taking her to his favorite magic shop every Sunday. As Kate entered her early teens, she had initially pretended that she was too old for magic tricks, but she secretly was still amazed by the sleight of hand. The highlight of seeing her grandparents was always her grandfather's magic tricks.

And then her grandfather died.

She missed him instantly. In an effort to keep his memory alive, she tried to learn everything she could about magic. She kept going to their magic shop a few times a month; tried to learn new tricks on her own. Magic made her feel like her grandfather had never left. He was always near her in magic.

She began to share her tricks with her parents, showing off the things she had taught herself. They laughed when she messed up, smiled when she did it right, and there were many a night when she left them completely confounded as to how she had done it.

And then her mother was murdered.

Suddenly, magic didn't seem as wonderful as it once had. Magic didn't make her smile the way it had before. Magic wasn't going to brighten the lives of the people around her.

No sleight of hand was going to bring her mother back from the dead.

No magic word was going to make her father put down the bottle.

There was no miraculous escape from the ever-present pain that had wound its way around her heart.

In Kate Beckett's world, the magic had disappeared.

She stopped going to the magic shop that her grandfather used to take her to every week. The books about magic she used to check out of the library were replaced by textbooks about criminal psychology and the justice system. Everything in Kate's new world could be explained. Everything had a logical explanation as to why and how it happened. She dedicated her life to facts and reason.

Magic had no place in her life anymore.

And then Richard Castle walked into her life with his theories of alien abductions and psychics predicting their own murders and an everyday fascination for all of the things logic couldn't explain and Kate found herself once again surrounded by magic. When she was around Richard Castle, magic didn't seem like such an extraordinary thing to believe in. He made her feel that maybe she could still have her world of evidence and purpose, but she'd add a new moon of wonder and magic that would make an appearance every once in a while.

And then she'd realize just how ridiculous that idea was. A homicide detective cannot believe in magic. A detective must rely on what is in front of them, not what may exist just beyond their reach.

The simple truth was a detective gave up magic when they took up their badge.

Kate Beckett was no exception.

However, she knew that her aversion of magic went beyond the call of duty.

In order to believe in magic, you had to have hope.

She couldn't allow herself to hope again.

For a magic trick to be successful, the illusionist must convince their audience that something wonderful was about to occur. If the audience didn't harbor some deep-seeded desire to see something incredible somewhere in the depths of their soul, any attempt at creating a spectacular illusion would be futile. When you allowed yourself to hope for something you were putting your faith in another being.

In Kate's experience, that could only lead to heartbreak in the end.

Hope wasn't enough to get her father out of the bottle.

Hope wasn't enough to get up every morning and go on with life as if nothing had happened.

Hope wasn't going find the people who wanted her mother dead.

Hope is what you have when you are too indolent to act. Hope is nothing but a fleeting wish that always ends in disappointment.

The only way to move on is to put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward. You don't get anywhere by standing in the middle of the road, hoping that one day you'll finally be able to move.

Results come from action, not hope.

Life goes on through hard work and determination, not magic.

If she wanted to move on with her life, she couldn't rely on hope and magic to do it. Kate found herself faced with the truth that her three-year-old self never would've believed and her grandfather would've rejected vehemently:

Magic just isn't enough to save you.

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><p>I sound like such a miserably, cynical, human being, hahahaha<br>As always; **Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think (:**


	13. Pharmacophobia

Hello everyone! Here's another chapter of _Phobophobia_! It feels like it's been forever since I updated this... I guess that's what happens when you live with a roommate and you can't do your normal "Write until 3 in the morning" spiel.  
>A warning: I think I might like this one... but it may not be realistic. It also is probably full of mistakes. I'm submitting this unedited because it <em>is<em> almost 3 in the morning... and I have to get up in the morning. I'll go back and look at it sometime tomorrow (hopefully) but I wanted to get this out to all you insomniacs and people where it's still daylight (:

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><p><strong>Pharmacophobia<strong> – The fear of _addiction._

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><p>If you asked Richard Castle to make a list of things he had never done before, that list would more than likely consist of ridiculous things that no one would ever think of doing in the first place; <em>I've never had sex on the back of an elephant; I've never done a handstand on the top of Mt. Everest; I've never done a one-footed back flip into a tank of Great White Sharks in South Africa. <em>

That's just the writer in him.

In reality, there were a lot of things in life that Rick Castle had never gotten the chance to do that he desperately wanted to; He'd never been married long enough to have a Crystal wedding anniversary; he'd never had a son; he'd never written a book good enough to win an Edgar Allan Poe Award.

The list of things he'd never done before could go on for miles. He wanted to feel every possible emotion on the human spectrum, from the deepest depression to the most wonderful euphoria a man has ever felt. He wanted all those experiences, even if the events and actions that lead up to them are less than desirable.

For instance, Rick had succeeded in feeling absolutely helpless, but having Kate nearly die in his arms in the freezer and again at Montgomery's funeral was something he hoped would never happen again. He had felt complete emotional turmoil, but he hoped he'd never have to deal with being so completely torn between the love he had for his detective and his complete devotion towards the happiness of his daughter, because heaven knows that he couldn't survive without either of them.

However, there were certain things on Rick's list of "Never Have I Evers" that he had no intention of ever trying. He had never written and published anything that purposefully and explicitly brought to light a person in his life who had less than wonderful qualities; he had never slandered anyone in his books. He had never let the press print any rumors about his mother or daughter. Rick had never hit a woman. And Rick Castle had never cheated on someone while he was in a relationship.

Even then, there was one thing near the very top of his list of things he'd never do that was something he swore he would never do. When people found out, they were usually surprised. After all, it wasn't something that most people could say they've never experimented with. Everyone was curious, after all.

Rick Castle had never abused drugs, and he never would. He had never tried anything, he'd never smoked, and he had absolutely no intention to ever start. He had been known to have a drink every now and again, but since that experience with the Police horse in Spring, he had never had more than one or two before cutting himself off.

For one, there were the obvious health risks involved. Smoking accounts for nearly 86% of lung cancer patients and the survival statistics are even more frightening. Alcoholics have to deal with the risk of fatal Liver Failure and Cirrhosis. And all of the hard, illegal drugs were laced with so many unknown substances that it wasn't worth the risk.

Rick was not willing to risk his life for a kick. Rick was not about to tear himself away from his family for eternity just for a momentary high.

It just wasn't worth it.

And for most of his life, he had stood by his convictions. He had never experimented with drugs, never even gave them a consideration in his mind. Nothing was worth giving up his life unless it was to save the lives of his mother and daughter.

He hadn't expected addiction to come in another, completely unexpected form.

Even the finest bottle of Scotch held nothing on the allure of a certain female Detective whom the writer had become so enamored with.

The only way to adequately describe his relationship with the detective was that Rick Castle was indeed addicted to Kate Beckett. He was addicted to her scent; the sweet smell of cherries that was subtle and gently caressed his nose every time she shifted in her seat or flipped her hair unconsciously over her shoulder. He was addicted to the electric charge he felt when her fingers touched his as he handed over her coffee every morning; the way her sinfully smooth skin set the nerve endings in his fingertips ablaze. He was addicted to every single one of her smiles; the sound of her laugh; the way her eyes shined when her mouth was so desperately fighting the urge to grin. He was addicted to the way her mind worked, her quick thinking, and the impressive retorts she always seemed to have positioned on the tip of her tongue. He was addicted to her strength; the control she had over her suspects and the way she channeled her struggles into a battle for those who found themselves in situations similar to herself.

And he had tried to fight it. He honestly had. Rick tried to convince himself that the obsession he had with Kate Beckett was just a passing fancy; that the overwhelming desire he had to be near her would fade in time. But he was wrong. The more time he spent with her the more he wanted to be around her. He could spend 24 hours a day with her and he still wanted more. He was selfish when it came to her; he didn't want to share her with anyone. His happiness was completely contingent on her happiness; if she was angry or upset, his emotions mirrored hers. He was hyper-actively aware of everything about her. He could read her like an open book, but he still wanted more. He needed her. He wasn't sure if he would be able to function anymore without his daily dose of Kate.

Just like any other drug, Rick was addicted by the way being with Kate made him feel. She made him feel like he was insignificant and the most important person in the world simultaneously. He felt like a schoolboy with his first crush, yet wanted to treat her the way only a grown man could. She made him want to be a better father, a better man. Kate made him want to be someone who she could be proud of. He glowed when she thanked him for even the smallest things. His heart raced whenever she was near. He wanted to write her endless of pages of poetry and love letters, sealed with kisses and promises of forever and the bitter sting of gunpowder. With Kate, he felt unstoppable, like he could jump from the top of the Statue of Liberty and cannonball safely into the water below.

It was then that he had realized that Detective Katherine Beckett was far more dangerous than any drug he could ever try.

The way Kate made him feel made him feel like a hero. He did things he would've never done before if it hadn't been for Kate's constant presence in his veins. He's risked his life too many times to claim that it was luck anymore. He was running out of lives. He was running headfirst off a cliff with scissors in both hands because she made him feel like he could. He would of his own fingers if it meant keeping her with him forever.

He wondered if it was possible to overdose on the affection of a beautiful woman.

He decided that there would be no better way to die.

Those thoughts scared him.

He was had told himself that he was never going to become another statistic, that he was never going to succumb to addiction. He was stronger than that. He needed to be there for his daughter. He couldn't allow himself to fall under the spell of something that he couldn't control.

Yet here he was, sitting in his office in the dark with a small smile on his face, thinking about how Kate had put her hand on his arm and threw her head back with unrestrained laughter at something he had said today while they were getting coffee in the break room. And he could stop thinking about the fact that in that moment, the world could've came crashing around him and he wouldn't have minded, because the sound of her laugh was the most beautiful music he had ever heard and the sight of her elegant neck had made him swallow a little harder than before. His heart had started beating so hard in his chest that he was sure she would be able to feel it through the fingers she had placed on his bicep. But she didn't notice and when she looked back at him with moisture in her eyes from her laughter, he had to fight hard to restrain his grin from taking over his face.

Here in the comfort of his office though, he could not have stopped his grin if he wanted to. He smiled into the darkness, his eyes unfocused on the bookshelf in front of him as he thought about how free she had looked in that moment and the fact that he was the one to cause it.

A thought fluttered through his head.

_Kate Beckett was a habit he was never going to be able to kick._

His smile grew wider.

_But why would he want to?_

* * *

><p>I took some liberties with this one. Pharmacophobia is actually the fear of addiction to prescription drugstaking prescription medication. Their is no defined phobia for addiction... but this idea has been floating around in my head since I wrote a line in "Thank You for Being Here."  
>Whatevs... like you care.<p>

As always: **Love it? Hate it? **Are these getting boring? **Let me know what you think (:**_  
><em>


	14. Haphephobia

Hi, my name's Emily and I'm the worst updater ever.  
>This one seems a lot... lighter, than the other one shots in this series. Take that as you will.<p>

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><p><strong>Haphephobia <strong>– the fear of _being touched_

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><p>"Well well, Detective. I thought I might find you here."<p>

Kate looked up, surprised (though she wasn't quite sure why) to see Rick walking towards her. He looked different then when she had sent him home earlier. Sitting on her desk in front of her murder board, she quickly noticed that he had changed out of his normal suit and tie and in exchange for a relaxed pair of dark jeans and one of his plaid shirts, unbuttoned, leaving his white, v-neck, undershirt exposed. She couldn't help but notice the way that his jeans hung deliciously low on his hips, and the rolled up sleeves of his button-up made his forearms look spectacular.

However, perhaps what was even more distracting (if that was even possible) was what the man had in his hands. Hanging in his right hand was a bag of what smelled like Italian food and he held a carrier with two coffees in the other hand.

_Bless him_, she thought to herself. But she'd be damned if she let him know how thankful she was.

Trying to hide her eagerness, Kate tried to put on her most annoyed look.

"Didn't I send you home an hour ago?" Kate asked, hoping that her glare looked convincing.

Castle moved towards the edge of her desk where she was sitting and put the bag of food directly in the center. He placed the carrier on the corner of her desk. "Well, if I do remember correctly," he started, taking the containers of food out of the plastic bags, "You told me that you were, and I quote, 'right behind me.'" He fixed her with a look that clearly said that he knew she didn't have any intention of leaving to start with.

Apparently she was losing her touch.

But she wasn't going to give up that easily. Turning up her chin, she said, "I was… I just got a little bit caught up."

He nodded his head earnestly, playing along, "Oh of course, my dear Detective. After all, that's why I'm here. I was sitting in my loft, trying to get some writing done when I was hit with an epiphany of sorts…"

Enraptured by the sound of his voice as he spun his mini-impromptu story, she quickly snapped out of it and stared at him. Hoping that it had been about the case, she met his gaze and asked hopefully, "Which was…"

He reached down behind her and before she even realized what was happening, had a cup of coffee,_ her_ cup of coffee, held out in front of her.

He gave her a small smile, "That we were going to need a lot of coffee."

Kate pursed her lips to fight the smile that was threatening to break free. There was just something about Castle that made it hard to be annoyed at him for long.

Reaching out slowly, Kate curved her fingers around her cup, unintentionally grazing his fingers with her own in the process. The feel of his fingers under her fingertips sent her nerve endings ablaze.

She quickly pulled her hand away and took a sip of her scalding hot beverage. It was perfect as always.

Moving his coffee back towards the center of her desk, Rick grabbed the cartons of food and some plastic forks and handed her one. Once she took it from him, he used his free hand and gently swatted her hip with the back of his hand. She took the hint (but not after giving him a small glare) and slide over to give him space to sit with her on her desk. Giving her a smile, he hopped up next to her, opened his take out container and started eating. She rolled her eyes, but followed suit. Then they stared at the murder board in front of them.

Castle was staring intently at the board in front of him, absorbing the few details she had put on since he had left before and trying to put together the pieces so he could get Kate to get some sleep. Kate, however, was having more trouble focusing.

She'd blame it later on the lack of sleep, but she found herself distracted by the feel of her partner being so close to her. Leaning forward slightly, his entire left side was pressed intimately against her right. Even through their clothing, she could practically feel the energy buzzing between their skin cells, the heat emanating from his body warming hers to the very core.

She had never felt this way around anybody. Never before had someone had so much influence over her emotions and reactions than her partner who was sitting beside her, eating Italian food that he picked up to bring to her at work at 10:30 at night. And this man was driving her crazy by simply sitting next to her.

Castle had not even touched her and she felt like her control was spinning away from her.

_God, _she thought to herself. _How did I let myself get so far gone?_

She hadn't associated touch with emotion since before her mother had died. After Johanna's murder, Kate simply had to deal with so many empty hugs and condolences that she learned that no one ever really meant what they did. So she took a page from their book and stopped meaning it as well.

She used to be able to separate the meaning of touch from the feeling behind it.

She used to be good at faking it.

It wasn't nearly as hard to fake a hug than it was to lie and tell someone that you loved them.

Holding someone's hand was much easier than keeping eye contact.

It was just easier to fake it.

But, as usual, her rules didn't seem to apply whenever Castle was involved.

She could feel the tenderness in his fingers when they grazed her hand and the comfort in the way his hand found hers unconsciously when she was having a rough time. She could imagine the strength she would feel if he were to put his hand on the small of her back and the support she would feel from leaning on his shoulder.

Even simply sitting next to him, the fact that his side was pressed snuggly against hers was enough to make her mind spin out of focus. Even through two layers of clothing, she could feel the taught muscles of his quads and the impressive outline of his biceps and it was enough to make her want to spin herself off the desk and press herself between his legs, gripping his thighs with her legs as she pushed her lips against his…

_Whoa,_ Kate shook her head slightly to rid the image from her mind. _Where did that come from?_

The problem was, even the most innocent touches from him were enough to make her feel completely off-balance. The feel of her fingers on hers as she passed him a file or he handed over her coffee made her think of what it would be like to feel those fingertips caress her more sensitive skin. It had her wondering how it would feel to let him trace words across her skin as if he was telling her a story…

Her thoughts were cut off when she felt Castle straighten up beside her. He put his nearly empty container behind him. She mimicked his actions and he clapped his hands together.

"I've got it."

She looked at him expectantly.

"The killer is an alien." His smirk ruined his attempt at being serious.

Kate rolled her eyes and shoved Castle using both hands. However, she either pushed with more force than she originally thought or Rick was being overly dramatic, but he slid so far off of Kate's desk that he slid off the slide. He managed to catch himself on the corner of her desk before hitting the floor, but in the process slightly jerked Kate's desk askew. When he looked back to her, she couldn't help herself. Kate threw her head back, and laughed until he finally joined in with her.

Because like it or not, Kate Beckett slowly began to realize that Richard Castle's touch was so much more than something physical. No, somehow Castle had, without her consent, reached out his strong hands and touched her life so passionately that she knew she was never going to be the same afterwards. Rick's effect on her life had silently begun to tear down the walls she had built to keep everyone out. He made her have fun when it seemed like nothing was going right and his smile was the most effective cure she had ever tried for an emotionally draining case.

Yes, Rick Castle had left fingerprints all over Kate Beckett's heart.

She only worried about what would happen once those marks faded.

But, she decided, tonight was not the night to dwell on that and fear for what may happen in the future. Reaching out her hand, she tried to control her laughter as she gave him the chance to meet her halfway. He gazed at her hand.

He didn't need her hand to get up. He knew that. She knew that. But Rick Castle was never one to let an opportunity to touch Kate go.

She knew that, too.

Rick reached out and grabbed her hand softly, wrapping his fingers around hers so she could pull him back up onto the desk. When she did, he slid up next to her and bumped her shoulder with his own, playfully retaliating for the stunt she just pulled on him.

Kate looked over at him and smiled, only to lean over and knock her shoulder against his again.

Perhaps being touched by Richard Castle wasn't such a bad thing.

In actuality, sitting on her desk with her partner, joking in front of the murder board with no one else around was something Kate thought she could definitely get used to.

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><p>I'm actually kind of nervous about posting this... It's been a long time since I wrote something.<br>So, **Love it? Hate it? **Want me to go away again and never come back? **Let me know what you think!**


	15. Uranophobia

Oh... now I'm just spoiling you.  
>This idea popped into my head and I couldn't let it go. We're back to the angst people. Also, POV change.<br>Have I intrigued you? THEN GO ON AND READ IT (:  
>(also, I did proofread this... but it's also 1:30 in the morning and I'm going on six hours of sleep. I apologize for any mistakes)<p>

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><p><strong>Uranophobia<strong> – the fear of_ heaven_

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><p>When Johanna Beckett was murdered, Jim Beckett felt a part of himself die. His wife was his entire world. They had been sharing the blankets and a shower, a pot of coffee in the morning and the daily paper for twenty years. He had built a routine around his wife. He had given his wife everything he had in him. He sent her flowers on a Wednesday because he could, gave her the right side of the bed because she complained she couldn't sleep on the left, and he had dinner ready and waiting for her on those nights when she returned home at some obscene hour during the night. He let his wife watch NBC rather than his preferred CBS and he conceded and took her out dancing when she wanted to go, even though he was known for his two left feet.<p>

And that was only what he had done for her. In turn, she had done so very much for him throughout the course of their lives. He shined his shoes and ironed his shirts when he had an important meeting to go to. Johanna cooked him brunch every morning and let him take the first shower in the morning while she picked out her clothes. She'd make his favorite meal just because she wanted to and she let him watch his sports on the bigger TV in the living room when there was a perfectly adequate TV down the hall, just because the TV in the living room had "a much more sophisticated sound system." She laughed at his jokes when they weren't funny, and helped him see that you didn't have to be a good dancer to have a good time.

He had never met anyone that had fit so perfectly into his life the way Johanna had. Sure, they had their rough patches and there were nights when he ended up sleeping on the couch (only to end up back on the left side of their bed sometime later in the night), but they _worked_. He never imagined a life that didn't consist of waking up next to his wife.

And then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone. It only took five words that didn't even have the right to belong in the same sentence to sufficiently tear his world into pieces that he wasn't sure would ever be able to put back together again.

_Your wife has been murdered._

Your wife… _His _wife. Murdered. Killed. Dead. Gone.

He hadn't even gotten the chance to say goodbye.

He had started missing her the moment he knew she was gone. He wanted her back in his arms. He wanted to see her smiling at him and hear her laughing as she told a story about something a coworker had done at the office. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, he wanted to hold her, and he wanted to kiss her. Jim wanted to go back in time and lock her in the safety of his arms and never let her go so nobody would have ever gotten the chance to take her from him.

But she wasn't ever coming back to him again.

Planning the funeral went by in a daze, and after everyone had left, he had excused himself and spent the night at a local bar. He drowned himself in his sorrow, letting the alcohol seep into his system to try and fill in the empty spaces that were left behind by the places that used to be filled with Johanna.

Everything hurt less when he was drinking.

But he couldn't hide himself from the truth for very long. He missed her terribly, and the only thing in the world he wanted more than another drink was to see her again.

Once he finally started to get his life back in order and stay sober, he began to have these dreams. One might call them nightmares. They consisted of nothing more than him sitting cross-legged in a pure-white room, with Johanna sitting right across from him. She had her eyes closed as if she was meditating, wearing the exact outfit that she had been wearing the day she had been murdered, her wedding ring still on her finger. But that was it. He couldn't talk to her, and he couldn't reach out and touch her. It was just him, sitting in the presence of the woman whom he had given his life to.

He woke up every night trying to remember what her eyes looked like.

Jim quickly determined that that was what he missed the most about his wife: her eyes. She had the most expressive eyes in the world; he swears on it. He could tell exactly what she was feeling just by the way her eyes looked. They shined with happiness, flashed with anger, and dulled slightly when she was feeling upset.

He would give anything to see her eyes again.

But after having nearly twelve years to think about it, Jim Beckett had begun to fear that day more than any other.

Jim knew what he would do when he saw Johanna again. He would run towards her and fall helplessly on his knees in front of her in pure happiness. The immense joy that he would feel would profess itself through tears of happiness that would fall to the ground by her feet. He'd kiss her hands, murmuring earnestly how much he loved her and how much he'd missed her. And then he'd stand up, look directly into her eyes with a gaze of love, the same look he had given her at their wedding, and then he'd kiss her long enough to make up for all the time they had lost since she had been taken from him.

But he was worried. He worried that instead of seeing love reflected in her eyes, he'd see anger, or even worse, disappointment.

He could imagine the questions she would ask that he would have no answers to.

_How could you lose yourself so badly?_

_Why did you try to destroy yourself?_

_How could he have left their daughter to deal with everything on her own?_

_Kate_. The knot that settled into his stomach every time the thought crossed his mind was enough to make him physically ill. Jim would never forgive himself for what he had done to his only daughter in the years following Johanna's death. He allowed himself to forget that Johanna was important to other people and that the loss of her life was undoubtedly going to affect other people. He had wallowed so deeply in his own grief that he was blind to everyone around him.

He had neglected his own child, the last physical link he had between himself and the love of his life. He had forgotten his own daughter.

Jim had forced his daughter, the little girl who refused to sleep with a nightlight and the teenager who bought herself a motorcycle against both her parent's wishes, to not only work to put herself back together, but also to help put him back together as well. On that cold night in January, his Katie hadn't just lost her mother; she had lost him as well. In a matter of hours, Kate had gone from being a semi-rebellious, normal, college student to an orphan. He left her to cope with the loss of her mother being brutally taken away from her so suddenly and watching him slowly fade in front of her eyes everyday as she picked him up off the floor and carried him to his bed.

He had seen her tears and he had picked up a bottle instead.

Perhaps he didn't deserve to see his wife again. Maybe the disappointment he'd see in her eyes would still be too much of a reward for a man who had done what he had because regardless of what he saw in her eyes, he would still be with her again. Dante's outer region of his Ninth Circle of Hell is reserved for those people who have betrayed their kin. Isn't that what he had done? Perhaps his fears in seeing Johanna again were completely unfounded because he had no chance of ever making it to where she was (for, if he was religious, he would have no doubt that his wife was in Heaven).

_To see his wife again and be rewarded for letting their daughter down._

_To be punished for his sins and spend an eternity never seeing her again._

Each thought terrifying in its own right, neither entirely fair, but both equally likely.

Johanna had a right to be upset and angry. She had every right to hate him for what he had put their family through when she would have counted on his to keep everything together.

Hell, he hated himself.

For all that he had done, he deserves to spend his eternity wallowing in Hell.

But the thought of never seeing Johanna again made his heart clench.

_To spend an eternity in Heaven_.

_To spend an eternity in Hell._

He knew which he wanted, but he had been making his bed since he first picked up the bottle, and when the time finally came, he was going to have to lie in it.

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><p>Personally, I think I really like how this one turned out. It's the first time I've tried writing a romantic relationship besides Caskett and I don't think I did too terrible?<br>But what I think really doesn't matter does it? I want to know what _you_ think (:  
>So... <strong>Love it? Hate it? Let me know what you think!<strong>


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